


Poems and Letters

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben writes poems, F/M, Lothal, Post-TRoS, She's just "Rey", Star Wars: Rebels Spoilers, World Between Worlds, and proud of it, personal head canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:05:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22252444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A brief sharing of a post-TRoS head canon that sparked to life from a tweet and very quickly turned into this... If you read, I hope you enjoy <3
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 59
Kudos: 127





	1. Poems and Letters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kylosnuggiequeen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kylosnuggiequeen/gifts).

> A/N: Some things right off the bat: Hux lives and his name comes up because sometime in the future he and Rose will fall in love and get married and have a beautiful daughter named Paige. I'm taking what I interpreted at the end of a Rebels episode and turning it into a means of getting Ben and Rey reunited, so if you haven't watched Rebels, read at your own risk. ALSO!! When asked at the end of TRoS “Rey who?” Rey answers back “Just Rey.” Because that’s my headcanon. 
> 
> All the love and thanks in the world to my darling beta, CourtingInsanity, who creeped her messages for hours to read edit a doc from a fandom she doesn't even watch. <3 you are gem, and I'm thankful to call you my friend.

* * *

Dear Rey, 

I don’t know where I am, because it’s dark, and yet, not. I can’t explain much more than that. There are doors. Lots of them. And suddenly with doors leading to you, there’s ink and something to write on. So, I’m going to write and see if maybe you find it. I don’t know if you’ve ever read for fun. I don’t know what you’d like to read if you ever did. I thought I’d give this a try, since apparently I have time. 

My mother’s planet was destroyed by the Empire, but I’m sure she’s told you that. Did she tell you Alderaan never had a moon? Did she ever sing you the lullaby she used to sing to me? 

She forced me to learn calligraphy when I was very young, before going to train with Luke. For as much as I followed after Dad, it was hard when he left. She’d hoped it would build patience and give me a healthy outlet when the headaches were too much; when the voices were too loud, and my temper was too much.

I don’t know how it’s possible to write something from here and get it to you, but since the opportunity presented itself, I’d be a fool to not try. I thought I’d try something that was reminiscent of Alderaan. I hope it makes you think of me. And Leia. Because you loved her, and I know she cared for you. 

_ Mirrorbright shines the moon,  _

_ but not nearly as luminous as my love for you. _

_ Mirrorbright shines the moon,  _

_ bathing the world in a blanket of sheer white.  _

_ Alone it’s perched in the inky black of the night,  _

_ that it may shine down and wrap you up tight.  _

_ Ever-present and never gone,  _

_ though the daylight deceives and would have you believe it’s won.  _

_ The moon doesn’t leave or abandon,  _

_ you’re never alone, never outside its watchful care.  _

_ Mirrorbright shines the moon, gentle and welcoming are its beams,  _

_ illuminating the night, guiding you through the darkest of dreams.  _

Yours, 

Ben

* * *

_ Carry me with you (I carry you).  _

_ Let me always be with you (you are with me).  _

_ Bind me to your soul (I bind myself to you).  _

_ The Force is with you (the Force is with me).  _

_ I am one with the Force (I am one with you).  _

_ Carry me with you (I carry you).  _

_ Tether me to yourself (you anchor me).  _

_ Hold me so I’m surrounded by you (you are held by me).  _

_ The Light shines from you (its rays find me).  _

_ I am one with the Force (I am one with you).  _

Yours, 

Ben

* * *

My Rey, my sweetheart, 

Dad used to call Mom ‘sweetheart’ sometimes, did she ever tell you that? He’d call her that when she was grumpy, when he was mad, and on what felt to be the rare occasion when no one was upset and everyone was happy. I somehow always knew it meant he loved her. Because he did. I knew he couldn’t figure out what to do with me, but his love for Mom was constant. 

That’s how I mean it when I use it with you. 

I found a letter you wrote. I don’t know if you’ve tried to write more. I haven’t figured out where I am enough to have a grasp of time. Your eyes are so sad whenever I see you, and it makes it hard to write. It’s hard to be the one to cause you such pain. But I can’t stop. It helps to tell you I love you, and not just think it. Voicing those words aloud, acknowledging what I’ve known since the day I met you eases the pain of being separated from you. Until maybe someday we’re granted to be together again. 

Until then, I’m yours forever… 

Ben

* * *

_ Tender I call _

_ alone I sit _

_ waiting, waiting, waiting  _

_ waiting for my love.  _

_ Gentle is my voice,  _

_ patient are my thoughts,  _

_ eager, eager, eager,  _

_ eager as I wait for my love.  _

_ Bright is my love,  _

_ beauty, grace, and strong,  _

_ constant, constant, constant,  _

_ constant as the stars.  _

_ Rey holds my heart,  _

_ I am hers forever,  _

_ loving, loving, loving,  _

_ loving everything that’s her.  _

Yours, 

Ben


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All good things to those who wait...

* * *

Reading, reading, reading. 

Rey is always reading. 

She’s read more in the past three months than she ever has in her life. 

Searching, scouring, digging. Pouring over ancient texts. The weight of this burden would be unbearable alone, but she’s not alone in her quest. 

She’s relocated to Bespin for the time being. It’s not permanent. Nothing is until she finds a way to Ben. Lando has gifted her the finest of guest suites the planet has to offer. He says it’s the least he can do. For the first time in her life, Rey doesn’t contest. Doesn’t spout off lies and arguments of not needing anything, or being capable enough on her own. 

She knows she’s not. Not for something like this. 

Not with something as unexplainable as letters appearing from beyond… Letters matching Ben’s handwriting from Leia’s home on Chandrila. 

She’s read all the poems and letters he’s left her, and there are so many by now. She’s read and read and read them all, until each is seared to her mind, her heart. She repeats them to herself as she attempts to meditate… Only to find she loses herself to the dream of Ben reciting every word to her. Sometimes they bind her in a warmth that’s more comforting than anything she’s ever known. Other times they have her so hot and bothered she has to take a cold shower before her research can resume. 

Threepio and Artoo sort through holofiles for anything relevant and upload them to her datapad. 

Finn helps sort through the research in physical books, because it’s more than she’d imagined there would be. He somehow understands when she tells him everything at last. He says he’ll help her; help her find a way to bring him back. He says he needs the best of teachers the galaxy has to offer if he’s to learn the ways of the Force. Rey offers him weak smiles and half-hearted words of gratitude when he reminds her to eat and sleep. 

Poe gripes and whines, but Rey reminds him she’s doing this for Leia’s son, the one she gave the last of her life force to save, and that shuts him up. Finn directs him to the shipyard when Rey’s had her fill of Poe in all his  _ Poeness _ for the day. 

She tries to train, to clear her head, but all she can see is Ben at her side; their twin blue blades ignited... And with a hiss and a snap, she shuts hers off and hides it away... 

Until she tries and fails again. 

She runs around a large track, runs until her muscles groan and her heart is too tired to be aware of its constant agony. 

As part of his debt to society and the galaxy at large, Rose has tasked General-Turned-Spy Hux to travel with her to every core system in the galaxy boasting libraries and museums with ancient murals and texts for display. Rose updates Rey every day. Sometimes talk longer and exchange stories of nothings from their past. Other times the stories are about deeper things. But they always end with rings of hope. 

She’s not alone, but she  _ feels _ his absence every moment—waking or sleeping. Where he should be right next to here is only his presence. It’s  _ there _ . She feels him so keenly, as if she should be able to reach out and touch her fingers to his...

As she had once before. 

She reads, runs, meditates and begins the cycle again when a new day dawns.

She’s happiest when she finds a new something from him next to the teapot or under a platter of fruit or atop the next ancient tome. She’s at her best when he reminds her she’s not alone. She tries to write him back, but her handwriting is horrendous and laughable, and she’s no way of knowing if he’s seen her messages. 

She hopes he does. She hopes he knows she’s looking for him. 

He’s waiting for her, and somewhere in the galaxy is the answer to finding him. 

* * *

Rey is running. Sprinting. Dashing. She is one with the Force and the Force carries her faster than she’s ever run  _ ever _ to find Chewie. 

She needs to get to the  _ Falcon.  _ They need to set a course for Lothal.

One of Lando’s contacts came through at last—Jacen Syndulla. He says there’s something she should come to see for herself. That his mother and Aunt Sabine knew someone who once walked through a door painted on stone… He entered into a rock, and came back out of the rock, alive and claiming to have saved someone from a world within. The door had been shut, and the temple had vanished. As if he’d never been there at all. 

But  _ something _ had appeared on a survey scanner sent out he told them.  _ Something _ was there, in the empty space where his mother told him the temple once stood. Perhaps it was simply waiting for a Jedi return and resurrect what had been tucked away from the physical world for decades. 

It was a drop of hope, really, but hadn’t that been as she’d once told Leia?  _ A drop here and there… _ It was all she needed for her ocean. 

Ben is waiting.  _ Waiting for her _ . 

She’ll figure it out. She’ll reach out and find the temple. She’ll find the door. And it will open for her. 

It  _ will _ . 

* * *

It’s not dark where he is, but it’s hard to explain. He sees enough to see himself and his surroundings. He sees to write to Rey. He sees to know the doorways to drop letters and notes into. He sees the short messages she writes to him. Sees the books she pours over night and day. 

She’s let down her hair again, all loose and spilling over her shoulders. He sees her in what appears to be his shirt when he catches glimpses of her mediating—she hasn’t patched the hole. 

She looks as tired as he feels, but she’s still the most radiant woman in the whole galaxy.  _ Kriff _ , he wants to hold her. 

He wants to be out of here and holding her, but the voices offer no answers. 

It’s nice to hear his mom’s voice again. Warming and wonderful, actually. She tells him she can’t appear there, but she’s with him and she loves him. She’s proud of him. She apologizes, too. And tells him she’d go back and do everything different if she could. 

She can’t, but it’s somehow enough knowing she would…

Anakin speaks, too, and not as the mechanical voice box that once plagued his mind. The voice is kind and not as gruff as Dad’s was. There’s a cocky youthfulness about it, and Ben listens to stories of Anakin and Shmi. And Anakin and podracing. Of Qui Gon and Obi Wan. The Clone Wars and Ahsoka. But most of all, Ben listens to the stories of Anakin and Padmé. 

Luke reached out once, but Ben’s not ready to talk much to him. Or listen really. Luke must feel the same, and that’s fine with Ben. 

When he’s not conversing with the voices of his past, he’s writing. And looking through doors, and writing some more. He never knows where the writing supplies come from; they’re all just suddenly there when he finds a door he thinks needs a message. Mostly it’s Rey, but there was one time with his mom… At a breakfast meeting… 

He couldn’t understand why she was still there when she ought to be finding a note and warning everyone, until writing utensils materialized and he snags a napkin. 

He doesn’t question much beyond that. He’s somehow  _ not _ dead. Somehow at peace with himself, forgiven by his parents, in communion with his grandfather, and loved by Rey. 

_ Loved _ . 

_ Him _ . 

Ben Solo is loved. By a woman. 

_ By Rey _ . His Rey. 

It’s more than he ever thought possible; so, no. As much as Ben longs to be with her in person, he doesn’t question anything for now. 

* * *

A sound ripples through the air, tickling his ears, gooseflesh chasing up his spine. It’s like the opening of a door and something colling with the ground, but Ben can’t be entirely sure… 

Until he hears it. 

And hears it again. 

And  _ again _ . 

His name. 

It’s Rey and she’s shouting _his_ name. Over and over… 

And he’s on his feet and running to her. 

He doesn’t know how long it’s been since he’s seen her, but he’s left her five new letters in her quarters that appear to have gone unseen. He’s tried not to panic, tried not to worry. Anakin’s been with him, telling him to trust the will of the Force, which Ben only snorts at, because look how that’s turned out for  _ him _ … 

But all of that fades away at the sound of her voice. 

He can’t see her yet, but he’s running and calling out her name, and she  _ shouts _ in answer. It’s something between a screech, a yelp, and a sob. He knows how she feels. He feels it, too. And this time, he’s not afraid. 

It’s the moons and stars and all the suns in the galaxy when he sees her. When their eyes connect and they’re no more than a few meters apart. 

And they’re charging towards each other, and it’s  _ everything  _ when she throws herself at him. They fall to whatever ground this is, and Ben thinks they’re lucky this fragile looking ground doesn’t shatter into a thousand pieces under them. 

But he doesn’t have time to voice any of that, or any of the words he’s thought and written to her, because she wastes no time in kissing him, swallowing his breath, his words, his thoughts. 

He guides them to at least be sitting upright and not in danger of rolling off whatever suspended path this is, Rey unwavering in the fierce energy of her kisses. It’s still clumsy and more a frantic meshing of lips than anything else, but there’s time, he decides. 

She’s found him and he’s been given the gift of time. Time to learn all of  _ her _ . What makes her laugh and beam and giggle. What makes her grumpy and frustrated and impatient.

He nuzzles deeper into her lips, his fingers cupping her neck and winding in her hair. She looses a sound he thinks may be a whimper, but he’s not sure. He’s never caused such a reaction from a woman before, and he determines to spend time learning what other sounds he can urge from her. To learn what makes her sigh and moan and keen… 

It’s dawning on him as she’s flesh and blood in his arms, all soft edges and taught muscle that there’s even time to map out every freckle on her body, follow their trail across her every curve with his fingers…  _ his mouth... _

But for now, oh for  _ now... _

Rey’s lips are still locked against his and her grip is so strong around his shoulders. 

And he doesn’t mind. Doesn’t question it. Or move to change it. 

He holds her in return, just as tight...

Basking in the knowledge that once again, she’s come to save him. 

And this time, he’s leaving with her. 


End file.
